Eternity
by Hybrid-Homicide
Summary: Vash reflects on a tragedy, to find out that it comes true...


Writer: Hybrid Homicide  
  
Disclaimers: Obviously Trigun is NOT mine, and nor is the Lincoln Park song.  
  
Warnings: Eh. Angst? I don't know if I call it Yaoi, we all know how Knives can get.. So whatever..  
  
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Eternity  
  
I raised my blood covered hand. The sound of metal clashes coming from my wounded arm. The warm blood fell from my pale finger tips. I shut my eyes tightly as I begin to wave that diminutive, frayed, blood stained ashen rag. The to salty tears streamed down my face so much that it burned. "I give up." I repeated over and over in my head, seeing as my throat had ruptured from screaming in pain. My torn crimson trench coat covered what was left of my already wounded and blood red body, revealing my black and brown fighting suit, adorn with silver belts and buckles dyed red from the reflection of the moon. My breath labored, my head was spinning. I felt dizzy from the blood loss. My aqua marine eyes had lost their shine, through sorrow and hate. Blood seeped from my mouth, I was going to pass out any minute. My name? My name is...  
  
Vash... Vash the Stampede.  
  
I coughed slightly and continued to wave the flag. "No more... no more..." I chanted in my head. I felt like I was going to vomit. I looked over at my friend. Nicholas D. Wolfwood. He same condition as I, blood stained and wounded. His hoary eyes were shut, he probably already passed out. Above me stood him, the creator of this pain, him... damn him... Golden eyes looked down upon me, still glowing intensely behind this cerulean hair. I felt myself drifting away, I held out my hand, and he took a firm hold on it. His mesmerizing eyes seemed to fade behind shadow. He lifted up my body, I fell beyond reality, and my eyes shut. But that was after I felt him, breaking my wrist in two.  
  
I was falling, not fast, and not to anywhere dangerous, I was just... falling. Images swirled around my narrow scope of reality, I saw her, the girl with the angelic wings, the long ebony hair. And the distant, pained smile. Rem... I shut my eyes again, letting the feeling devour me. It felt good, I could almost feel her presence. Until... reality hit me hard. I woke up in a hospital, my eyes widened. Pain flooded over me, I began to vomit in the air mask that was provided. I couldn't move, I was paralyzed. I couldn't scream, my throat had rebelled. Doctors rushed over from where they stood to calm me, and remove the vomit covering my mouth before I drowned in it. I had woken up during surgery. God, it hurt so much. I felt my body thrash and lift without control. My hips bucked and my back arched. I felt myself snarl. "No.. no please don't..." I thought.  
  
They stabbed me with a needle, and in an instant I was underwater. I looked up, holding my breath I could see the shine from the sun reflecting in the water, I was happy, nothing could ruin it, besides that fact that I couldn't breathe. My lungs were about to burst. I couldn't stand it, I had to breathe. I took in a breath, expecting my lungs to fill with water. To my surprise, I could breath. I looked around, there was nothing but darkness. I smiled, things were so much better. Shades of dark blue flew past, mixed with purples and reds. I felt myself rising into the surface again, the light from the sun shined bright in my eyes. I looked around, there was nothing there. Pure nothingness. I opened my eyes for the last time, the clean white pillow staring back at me with a silk touch that felt good on my pained face.  
  
"I remember." I mumbled. I could speak again; I reached a hand up and touch my throat. There was a large bandage over it. I sighed, "Wolfwood... where's Wolfwood?" I said sitting up and looking around. The door creaked. "So Vash, you're awake." He said in his deep voice. Him, the man who has been by my side from the start... ok well, near middle. He was tall, with short ebony hair that covered his eyes, which were already covered by his black sunglasses. He held his jacket behind him, there was a large bandage wrapped around his torso, one of his arms was in a sling. He was my best friend, his name, was Nicholas D. Wolfwood. "What exactly happened back there?" I looked down, "I don't know what happened, but Knives, Knives is the one who started this." A haunting look came upon my face; I felt a new power flow across me, through my veins. "Tell me." Wolfwood said, in a serious yet serene tone. "I know you know Vash, you're not a good liar." He said to me in an almost comical tone, I on the other hand found know humor in it. He took off his sunglasses revealing his marvelous gray eyes, tainted with silver.  
  
I turned and looked the other way, "I don't want to talk about it." I said. "Vash, tell me." He said once again, his words were making me sick. Nick began to walk closer, with each step I was becoming more uncomfortable, until he stopped and sat down at the edge of the bed. "Ok, I had gotten into a fight with Knives earlier...."  
  
The memories flooded back to mind...  
  
Something has been taken From deep inside of me The secret I've kept locked away No one could ever see Wounds so deep they never show They never go away Live moving pictures in my head For years and years they've played.  
  
Knives paced along the dusty terrain. "If your not going to be on my side, then you will perish, simple." He said with the tone in his voice, a very annoyed tone.  
  
"I'm not going to Knives, our relationship does nothing for the forces of good and evil!"  
  
"Are you daring to claim that I am evil?"  
  
"I didn't say that..." My voice cracked as my defense dropped and I know he could tell I was getting weaker.  
  
"You did, didn't you. You dare think that I would succumb to such less the admirable compulsions! Like those humans you are so kind to!" His eyes widened in an madman's stare. I know he was going to kill something... or worse. I shot a nervous look at my arm. I picked up my gun and aimed it at him, not to shoot, just to look intimidating. This wasn't working. "S...Stay away from me Knives..." I heard my voice crack again. He gave me a humorous look, "You're afraid that I'm going to make you use it. It's your power Vash, this is what separates us from those vile humans." In an instant, I raised my arm. My eyes widened, "N...No, not again...please anything but this." I pleaded. With my arm still in the air, I succumbed to the same 'less the admirable compulsions', dropped to my knees, places my head at Knives's feet. And begged for mercy. I cried, and yelled and beseeched for anything, so long as no one was killed.  
  
If I could change I would Take back the pain I would Retrace any wrong move That I made I would If I could stand up And take the blame I would I would take all my shame to the grave.  
  
"Please, please Knives, don't do it. Please Knives." I said through harsh cries. I brushed my cheek against his leg and curled up against him. He, right now, was the only source of comfort I held, even if he did want me dead. I looked up at him, my eyes met his through tears, and in an instant he was on me. Not smothering me or hurting, but holding me. "Who do you take me for?" Were the only words I heard that exited his mouth. "No, Knives please!" I yelled again. "Please, you can't do this!" I pushed my body into his, my head hitting his chest. I didn't want it to happen, I felt myself falling, I felt dizzy. I cried as he held onto me, and nuzzled into his chest. "Knives.. Don't..." I said before his stood and let me fall. He raised his hand, his eyes turning crimson. "No.. Knives no!" My arm was lifted with his telekinesis, and suddenly I became what I hated most. Vash the Stampede, the Diablo.  
  
"Knives!" I yelped. The Angel Arm. A deadly weapon with a divine name, heavens destruction. With gun in arm, literally, I aimed it at Knives for the third time in my life. "Please, don't do it! I don't want this to happen!! Your all I have lef--" I began coughing up blood, my eyes widened as I held onto my throat with my other hand. It burned, its burned so much. Without warning Knives stopped his control on my arm while it returned to its normal and watched me. He looked almost afraid. "You, weren't worried about the humans, you were worried about... Hurting me." I looked up at him, I could barley move my neck, it hurt so badly. I couldn't talk; I was forced to use my powers, through telekinesis we spoke.  
  
"Why Knives...?" He was ignoring my complaints. "It seems your throat has rebelled and ruptured." He said to me before walking over and taking a firm hold on my face. I wanted to scream loud from the burning pain, but I couldn't. The blood streamed down my mouth, and onto Knives's hand. "Vash, you care about me." He spoke almost softly, his eyes filling with a new emotion. "You're my brother; I would give the world for you, no matter what happened, or how we treated each other."  
  
Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past Bringing back these memories I wish I didn't ask Sometimes I think of letting go And never looking back Then never looking forward so There'd never be a path.  
  
"I envy your concern, you will live." He said before walking away, leaving me in the squalor of the dank room. Then I noticed how hard it was for me to breathe. I'm sure I had broken some ribs, punctured a lung and shattered my throat. I sat there, vulnerable, in pain. Hours later, I probably had fallen asleep, when I was disturbed by the sound of a door creaking. I heard a gasp, the sound of a large metal object crashing to the ground, followed by the sound of glasses falling. The room was filed with the sent of gunpowder, I recognized the sent. Faintly I heard my name. "Vash..." The voice was so familiar. It was Wolfwood. He ran over to me and knelled next to me. "My god Vash." He said. He touched my shoulder. "Wolfwood." I said with my mind. "Yeah it's me." He said gently. I could sense him smile. "How do I look?" I asked. "You look good, I'm going to get you help, I just need to you to hold on." He said. I nodded, or tired to. Wolfwood rolled me over my face, I was covered in blood from my ruptured throat. My eyes had gone empty an were now only deep aqua. My usually spiky yellow hair had nearly completely turned black from the energy loss.  
  
He slowly lifted me into his arms, but his already weak and failing body was giving out. I held tightly onto his jacket to support myself but accidentally ripped the white cloth from under his jacket. Without warning an intense light dawned upon us with a deadly sin, before our eyes the building in which we remained dormant was annihilated into nothing but red- brown rusted metal frames and the dust and rubble. From the light merged a silhouette. A tall dark figure, with something protruding from its shoulder. As the light dimmed the figured eyes were able to be seen. And there, on this things head was one golden yellow spot on it, the other one, was covered in what now looks like indigo hair. In an instant I knew that this was no ordinary person, but a demon sent by brother. He called my name.  
  
"Vash the Stampede." he said in his drawled out serene malevolence voice. He approached me, standing over me with a wicked glint in his eyes. "Legato Bluesummers." I thought. He let out a smile, "Very good." While I distracted Legato Wolfwood crawled over to his Cross Gun, hoping he was out of eye shot for Legato. But, he was not out of ear shot. Legato turned his head and with his telekinesis lifted Wolfwood off of his feet and threw him into one of the metal frames. Wolfwood fell to the ground, unconscious. I wanted to scream out, and I almost did, that was a mistake. I began coughing up bloody chunks again, which made Legato's facial expression change drastically. He shot a look down at me, a look that meant I would die.  
  
If I could change I would Take back the pain I would Retrace any wrong move That I made I would If I could stand up And take the blame I would I would take all my shame to the grave.  
  
I raised my blood covered hand. The sound of metal clashes coming from my wounded arm. The warm blood fell from my pale finger tips. I shut my eyes tightly as I begin to wave that diminutive, frayed, blood stained ashen rag from Wolfwood's coat. The salty tears streamed down my face so much that it burned. "I give up." I repeated over and over in my head, seeing as my throat had ruptured from screaming in pain. My torn crimson trench coat covered what was left of my already wounded and blood red body, revealing my black and brown fighting suit, adorn with silver belts and buckles dyed red from the reflection of the moon. My breath labored, my head was spinning. I felt dizzy from the blood loss. My aqua marine eyes had lost their shine, through sorrow and hate. Blood seeped from my mouth; I was going to pass out any minute. My name? My name is...  
  
Vash the Stampede.  
  
And I'm about to take a leap, this leap into what I call...Eternity. 


End file.
